


Pulling Pigtails

by neyvenger (jjjat3am)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Hair Brushing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/neyvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haven't we all dreamed of runing our fingers through David Luiz's curls at least once? Well, so has Neymar.</p>
<p>David is easily swayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling Pigtails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maiucha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiucha/gifts).



> This is totally Mai's fault because she asked for:
> 
> Neymar tries to convince David Luiz that playing with his hair before bed actually helps him to sleep better (it's up to you if David lets him) –pre WC–
> 
> and that was like a month ago. And I really wanted to cuddle up with David after that last game and protect him from the world, so there's that.

David knocked on the door of his shared hotel room before entering. Usually he would have just barged in, but Neymar had been acting weird all week, but it’d been more obvious today and David was a bit apprehensive as to what he would find in their room when he stepped in.

 

It wasn't anything offensive; it was just that Neymar kept staring at him. David would be in the middle of training and he'd feel a prickling on his neck, only to turn around and meet Neymar's amber eyes. The other man would just smile back, returning to his work, but it kept happening and David was getting paranoid. At first he'd thought there was something on his face, a zit he must have missed, but when he asked Thiago, he just looked at him, frowning, and shook his head. At least Neymar acted normally when they were sharing a room.

 

When he came in, he found Neymar sprawled on his bed with his phone, probably facetiming with his son, judging by the softness around his eyes, crinkled up from a small smile. He looked up when David came in and nodded in greeting, smile widening. David gave a little wave, leaving his shoes in a neat line near the wardrobe and throwing his bag onto a chair.

 

"...David just came in, do you want to say hello?" Neymar said into the phone camera, before waving him over. David threw himself onto the bed so he was stretched sideways next to him, watching the screen and Davi Lucca's sleepy face.

 

"Hi, David." Davi said, words slurring a little.

 

"Hi, kiddo," David smiled at the sleepy blink. "Is Papa telling you a good story?"

 

"Yeah!"

 

"Of course I am, Papa tells the best stories." Neymar touched his head briefly to David's shoulder. On the screen Davi Lucca nodded enthusiastically and pleaded for him to continue.

 

David got up, leaving them a little privacy and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

 

When he got out, he caught the tail end of the story:

 

"...and then the prince kicked the mighty football into the dragon's maw and it fell on its belly, defeated. And so the day was saved, and they all lived happily ever after."

 

David grinned to himself when Davi started pleading for another story and Neymar sent him to bed with a non-nonsense voice. It was almost similar to the tone he used on the pitch, when he was telling David to pull the defense tighter, except not as loud and furious.

 

David settled comfortably into his own bed, right as Neymar said his goodbyes, pressing a kiss to the phone camera. The finished phone call left them in a moment of silence, where David studied Neymar from the corner of his eye. His ever present hat was on his head and David knew by now that he wouldn’t remove it, until he was sure he was falling asleep. Sometimes, he fell asleep with it still on, making for some of the most hilarious bad hair days David had ever seen, and he'd had his fair share.

 

Neymar was dressed in sweats and every inch of him screamed lazy relaxation, except for the knee that had a half melted ice pack on it.

 

"Hey, is it okay if I turn on the TV?" Neymar's voice startled him from his musings and David blushed, hoping that he wasn’t caught staring.

 

"Sure," it was still early and David could fall asleep anywhere anyway. "How's the knee?"

 

"It's nothing," Neymar said, reaching for the remote on the stand in the middle and turning on the TV. "Just precaution."

 

"Good," David nodded, settling in to watch the cop drama Neymar put on. It was their usual routine for rooming together and it wasn't long until his eyes started drifting shut of their own accord.

 

"Hey, David?"

 

"Hmm?" David opened his eyes with some difficulty, tipping his head to the side so he could look at Neymar. His anxious look immediately set off alarm bells in his head.

 

"Can I pet your hair?" and just like that David was wide awake.

 

"W-what?" he managed to choke out, watching Neymar's cheeks grow redder under the scrutiny. He was sure he should be savoring the moment, because it wasn’t often that you saw the self-assured forward so flustered, but he was having trouble finding coherence too.

 

"The pain pills make it hard for me to sleep and petting someone's hair really helps me calm down," Neymar looked away, embarrassed. "Forget I said anything."

 

"No, I...it's fine. Come on," David shifted so there was more free space on the bed, watching Neymar get out of bed, pulling his pillow.

 

He stopped in the middle between the beds, hesitating.

 

"Are you sure this is okay?" there was something very vulnerable in the shape of his mouth and his eyes were wide, almost scared, and David was suddenly reminded that Neymar was only 23. They forgot sometimes, because he bore the burden they gave him so well, that he was honestly still just a kid in some ways, even if he was raising one.

 

"I'm sure. Now come on, how do we do this?"

 

And just like that, Neymar’s self assurance was back. He stacked his pillow, so he was sitting up against the headboard of David's bed, and David was settled down with his head half on a pillow and half in Neymar's lap.

 

The first touch was tentative, just a brush of fingers through his curls and David felt himself lean into it almost by instinct.

 

"Oh, it's really soft." Neymar's voice had a tone of wonder in it and David had to smother his grin against the pillow.

 

After the first few strokes, Neymar became less tentative and David felt himself relaxing. The fingers stroked through his hair, separating the strands, pausing to tug a curl straight just to watch it spring back into shape. It was nice and it got even nicer when the hands paused their petting to massage his scalp. Soon enough he was muttering contented sounds against the pillow, turning his head into the touch.

 

The hands did a good job at turning him into a boneless heap, even dipping down to massage the tense nape of his neck. He was growing drowsy, letting down his usual barriers one by one. So when Neymar’s hand drifted down to touch the edge of his cheekbones, it felt like the most natural thing to turn and press a dry kiss against the palm.

 

He felt Neymar's sharp inhale above him and froze, caught. David was about to pull back, laugh it all up as a joke, grateful for the sheets to hide the situation in his pants, when the hand started moving again.

 

Except now, every motion felt deliberate, almost teasing and every tug and press made blood pool at the base of his stomach.

 

Finally, the hands receded and Neymar shifted, so David was lying on his own pillow. He kept his eyes shut, feeling the displacement of air and hearing the shifting of cloth as Neymar moved.

 

It wasn’t until he felt the barest hint of the other man's breath against his lips that he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Neymar’s eyes, completely dark, save for a circle of amber around the iris. He’d moved so he was laying on his side, facing David, their bodies not touching, but tempting him with their closeness.

 

He’d discarded his hat and David reached out his hand to run his fingers through the shorter hairs at the side, growing bolder when Neymar let out a barely audible groan, eyes slipping to half-mast. He moved his hand downward, over the unshaven stubble, to Neymar’s lips, and cupping his jaw in his hand, he ran a thumb over the bow of the other man’s mouth. From there it was a simple matter to shift forward and slot their lips together.

 

Neymar responded right away, hungry and impatient, and for a while David let him, before gentling the pressure, turning the kiss into something slower, but no less passionate. Neymar pulled back to look at him quizzically and David grinned.

 

“Training, remember? I’d love to have this continue, but we’re waking up early tomorrow.”

 

“I never would have taken you for a tease, David Luiz.” Neymar sighed, but he shifted so they weren’t pressed quite so tightly together, though his hand never stopped its lazy movement over David’s flank.

 

“This coming from the man who used my hair to seduce me. Does that work for you often, or am I just special?” David said, tugging on the silver loop in the other man’s ear.

 

“No, no, you’ve got this all wrong,” Neymar said, his hand drifting up to sweep through David’s curls again. “I really wanted to touch your hair; the other part was unplanned.”

 

“Oh, I see how it is,” David snorted, “you only like me for my hair. Shall I shave it off, so you can have your moment alone?” But he couldn’t resist darting in and stealing another kiss.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Neymar whispered against his lips, “I like the head they’re attached to, too.”

 

They kissed lazily for a while longer, until between one breath and the next, Neymar’s grip slackened and his breathing evened out in sleep. David smiled and followed.

 

 

*

 

 

The next morning:

 

“Wait, was this why you kept staring at me at training? You wanted to touch my hair?”

 

“I wanted to touch _you_. Now keep it down before you wake up the whole hotel.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](jjjat3am.tumblr.com)


End file.
